1-Tulkarem Ambulance Duty, 15 January 2003
2-EDUCATION RALLY IN NABLUS, PALESTINE
3-OMAR AL-TITI UPDATE. Is there justice in this land?
1-Tulkarem Ambulance Duty, 15 January 2003 From: <elsberg@econs.umass.edu> Wednesday, January 15, 2003 11:43 AM
It's 3am. I've been sleeping on the sofa in the dispatch. The dispatcher's phone starts ringing off the hook. I can only catch one word of hers as she > speaks to the callers: "shaheed" (commonly translated as "martyr"). I go to her desk and see two paramedics, Mohamad and Sami, preparing to depart.
The dispatcher tells me to go with them. We drive maybe two minutes, probably less, into Tulkarem Refugee Camp. A young man appears from the shadows and runs down the street, leading the ambulance for about 50 yards. More young men are now in the street, perhaps eight or ten, one with a handgun. He is down the road about 20 yards away, now brightly lit by the ambulance headlights, keeping watch round the corner of an intersection.
Sami is the driver, Mohamad is sitting in the middle of the front seat and I am sitting in the passenger seat. Sami motions me to allow Mohamad to get out. I do so and get back into the ambulance while Mohamad pulls out a fabric strecher from the back. One of the men from the street takes it and runs into a driveway or alley. Within seconds another man runs out of this space carrying the wounded youth in his arms. The wounded youth is loaded into the back of the ambulance and one of his fellows jumps in along with Mohamad. We back down the street to turn around. One of the men from the street leans into the wall of a nearby home and lets out a loud cry as we pull back. I glance back into the ambulance and can see blood coming out of the mouth of the patient.
He makes no sounds or movements. A minute later we are at Tulkarem Hospital, across the street from the ambulance dispatch. The driver honks at the gate and when no one responds immediately, I jump out and drag it open, then close it once the ambulance enters the compound. We pull the stretcher out of the back of the ambulance and I can see a small loop of intestine poking through a wound in the middle of the patient's belly.
I follow behind as they roll him into the emergency room, uncertain if I should do so or stay with the ambulance, but I'm feeling insecure and prefer to stick with the paramedics. A doctor is in the ER and a nurse is turning on the lights.
The patient's arm hangs limply off the side of the stretcher and when the doctor makes no move towards him I know that he must be dead. The youth who rode in back of the ambulance with us begins to cry and presses his face into the neck of the dead man, hugging his comrade's head to himself. He steps away and the nurse and Mohamad go to move the body onto a hospital bed. Sami has walked outside for the moment, escorting and comforting the crying friend, and I had seen that Sami had a tear running down his cheek as he went by. They need someone to help move the body so I take hold of his shoulders and we move him, getting a small smudge of blood on the palm of my hand. I can see that there is another wound on the side of his torso, but I don't know if it is from a second bullet or part of an entry-wound/exit-wound pair.
Two other men from the street, including the one who had cried out in the street, rush into the ER. That one lets out another hoarse cry as he sees the body and goes to it, pulling a blanket over the wounded body and hugging it to his own. Sami comes back into the ER and he says to me that we should go back to the ambulance.
A few moments later the remaining paramedic joins us and we drive the few yards back to the dispatch. It's 3:15 am. [After writing the above in my journal, I talk with Mohamad and Sami and learn > that the dead youth is Mohi al'Din Mahmood Hamza, 17 years old. He was shot with a number of bullets in the legs, torso and head by soldiers in an armored pesonnel carrier enforcing curfew on the refugee camp. They recognized him from the night before when he had helped load another youth, wounded in the same part of the camp, into the ambulance.] Jonathan ====================================================2-EDUCATION RALLY IN NABLUS, PALESTINE Date: January 15, 2003 Area: Nablus Author: ISM
The children of Nablus today took part in a peaceful demonstration for their right to education. Approximately 100 children from local schools in Nablus took part in the protest, calling for international attention to their plight.
The impact of the occupation on children is tremendous. Schools are randomly closed or shelled by the IOF, both teachers and students are not allowed past checkpoints to get to their schools. In addition, continual curfews prevent children from leaving their homes and everyone lives under a continual state of oppression, fear and humiliation.
Waving the Palestinian flag and holding signs such as "Save the Children, End the Occupation" the children of Nablus took to the streets. During the demonstration, children read statements in English, French and Arabic calling on the world to recognize the impact of Israeli aggression on their right to learn and live without fear. Also at the rally were local teachers, political leaders and members of the International Solidarity Movement. ============================================================3-OMAR AL-TITI UPDATE. Is there justice in this land? Date: January 15, 2003 Area: Nablus Author: Susan Barclay
Omar Al-Titi is currently in Ofra prison just outside of Ramallah, and has been sentenced to 6 months administrative detention. Omar has been in a touch with his family a number of times and seems well, strong; his lawyer also said he seemed strong psychologically, positive, and alert.
His case was presented in military court on Monday, December 13th and injustice prevailed once again. Having such a dear friend arrested and attempting to do legal support work for a Palestinian has opened my eyes to yet another viciously unjust policy of the supposedly democratic state of Israel.
Omar, and thousands others like him, are sentenced to administrative detention; Israel has the 'legal' right to detain people without charge or trial for six months. Omar's lawyer went to court on Monday and the "routine" procedure began. Omar's file is kept entirely secret and presented to a judge in private; in fact, the Shabak (Israeli Intelligence) meet privately with the judge, who then makes a ruling. 6 months was the ruling in Omar's case and his lawyer's words said in vain, as the judged rebutted her every argument by saying that there is more than enough in Omar's file to keep in him in prison for 6 months.
A routine appeal process, I was told on the phone today is all that is possible (although we are exploring the possibility of a private lawyer). Incessant calls to lawyers and prisoners associations that handle hundreds of cases and thus can simply not focus on one individual; Mandela Prisoner Association attempted to deliver a little money for cigarettes today and there was a complete closure at Ofra; no one can promise anything and at the end of hours of calls, I feel so frustrated---we simply must be able to do more.
And it brings tears to my eyes to think that I could say all this to Omar and rant and rave about the injustice and the hypocrisy, and he would knowingly smile, say something to make both of us laugh, and then almost magically move into talks of demonstrations, non-violent resistance, and future possibilities, making me chat and laugh until I forget the anger and outrage I felt minutes before. He is an incredibly strong person with a gentle, interminably positive spirit and I imagine that he is handling this better than most of us.
Is there any justice in this land?
Imagine if in France, Canada, Japan, or Sweden someone said: My brother was detained one day walking from the city to some local villages, stopped by machine guns and ordered with lethal force to turn over his ID. The soldiers, after calling in his ID number to a communications center, blindfolded, handcuffed and took him to a nearby occupied civilian house where they beat him. He was then held at a military base for 2 weeks that has absolutely no facilities at all to hold, sleep or feed men. He was never allowed a phone call, a lawyer's visit or even his daily medicine. He was transferred to a prison just hours late enough to conveniently miss his first hearing. Finally, based on secret information that was presented in private from the secret police to a judge, he got a 6 month sentence, and lawyers say all that you can do is file another "routine" appeal and wait six months, like thousands of other Palestinians.
My throat gets dry and my eyes wet as I think of Omar in prison, and all the other men and the families and friends who love and miss them, having to swallow, being force fed oppression and injustice daily. I honestly can not imagine being in his place. Maybe it because I haven't lived here all my life, maybe its because I think nothing is normal about 6 months in prison without charge, or maybe it is because I actually believe in humanity, in justice, in fundamental basic rights, and in truth that absolutely nothing about this goes down the right way. So many of us seem to be choking.
Susan Barclay Nablus – Occupied Palestine
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